


A Little Prick Never Killed Anyone

by lightfromspite



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, M/M, handjobs, implied past sexual abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:20:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25907236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightfromspite/pseuds/lightfromspite
Summary: Omi didn’t know what was pushing him to act like this - but Yuki was entirely too appetizing and he couldn’t help be curious about how he was both so rough around the edges while being that cute. It was possible that it was just cute because he was young and his pristine skin gave him the appearance of a doll, especially in his pink little nightgown.
Relationships: yuki rurikawa/omi fushimi
Comments: 11
Kudos: 20





	A Little Prick Never Killed Anyone

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy, here we go~ This is the first of many “problematic” fics I’m gonna be posting on this account because I depraved and I love making people upset

Omi had made it a habit to spend time with the younger members of the company to help establish himself as someone they could come to if they needed help. He wasn’t particular about what he would do with them, but it usually was just helping them with homework, having them help with meal preparation, or with their tasks around the dorms. Yuki, in particular, sought him out more often than he would have expected, and while he enjoyed being helpful, getting a message at 3 am from the middle schooler asking for his help with costumes wasn’t the most ideal way for them to be bonding. Especially since Yuki was quite vocal on the importance of getting good sleep, him having to work this late into the night probably would be enough for him to be more vicious than normal.

“Ma, I need your help,” Yuki said, nodding towards the pile of costumes that were half done, “I would ask the puppy, but his embroidery work isn’t up to standards for the stage. I need you to do it for me.”

There was no room for Omi to deny him and he sat on the couch opposite him, picking up a jacket and fitting the embroidery ring around where Yuki had marked the fabric. He wasn’t sure what he could say in order to remedy the awkward silence, or if that was going to be a one-way ticket to getting the middle schooler upset for disrupting his thought process as he sewed. Omi cursed, dropping the project onto his lap as he watched blood bubble around where he had stabbed his finger.

“Did you poke yourself?” Yuki asked, not looking up as he continued to sew without a hint of concern for the older man. 

“Yeah, I’m going to get the first aid kit,” Omi moved to get up but stopped at the middle schooler’s annoyed huff

“Omi, a little prick never killed anyone so don’t stop working,” Again, Omi was unable to go against him and just nodded, “Just suck on it and it’ll be fine.”

“What?” 

“Just give me your hand,” Yuki rolled his eyes, licking his finger before sucking on it for good measure. He released his wrist and nodded back to the jacket, “Now go work.”

Omi was dumbstruck - not about how cold Yuki could be, but the fact that he would be bold enough to suck on his finger without batting an eye. Even if it was in an attempt to keep him working.

“If you’re not going to work you can leave,” Yuki snapped, his tone annoyed and unforgiving as he watched Omi daze off.

“Can I ask you something, Yuki?”

“You already did.”

“When did you start dressing the way you do?” 

“When I learned that being called cute was nicer than being called handsome,” Yuki sighed and looked up through his lashed, “Why?”

Omi didn’t know what was pushing him to act like this - but Yuki was entirely too appetizing and he couldn’t help be curious about how he was both so rough around the edges while being that cute. It was possible that it was just cute because he was young and his pristine skin gave him the appearance of a doll, especially in his pink little nightgown.

“Are you a pervert, Omi?” Yuki smirked, putting the piece he was working on down and standing up - his knee resting on the coffee table as he leaned in, “I see you staring at my nightgown, you must be.”

“It’s not like that, I just wanted to know more about you,” Omi swallowed as Yuki’s body weight pressed onto the hand on his thigh to support himself. He wasn’t a pervert and he wasn’t turned on by how Yuki smiled knowingly at him. He knew that he was in the wrong, but was he really to blame when Yuki was the one who was leading him into this trap. 

“You probably wanted to know if I wear girly panties too, huh?” Yuki rolled his eyes as if this wasn’t the first time that he had gone through this same scenario - which wouldn’t surprise Omi considering that Yuki was defensive about opening up about his past to the point of getting upset.

“Yuki, it’s not like that,” Omi tried to explain himself. He wasn’t like this - Yuki was like a younger sibling to him and he wanted him to be happy and good well. He would never use his power over them to do anything like that because he wasn’t a bad person.

“I bet it isn’t and the reason you’re hard isn’t that you just imagined it,  _ pervert _ ,” Yuki’s hand moved up his thigh and he pressed his palm against Omi’s crotch hard enough that it hurt, “I bet this is why you’re always so nice so you can be gross and we’ll be confused because  _ Ma _ would never hurt us.”

“Yuki,” Omi gasped as the middle schooler pushed harder, “I don’t know what happened to you, but I am not going to do anything to you.”

Yuki leaned in and pressed a rough kiss against Omi’s lips, the older man not reciprocating the action and Yuki pulled away. He looked upset that Omi didn’t return the affection, but he shocked and could do anything besides try and control the urge to kiss him back. But they were in the lounge and if anyone decided to get something to drink or go to the bathroom, his life was over and he was sure to go to prison. 

“I’ll let you see, you pervert,” Yuki smirked and pulled away, turning around and lifting the back of his nightgown over his ass to reveal the frilly white panties underneath. He climbed onto the couch, leaning over the back and spreading his legs. The evidence of the young boy’s own arousal was clear against the fabric and Omi wasn’t sure if it was just because the start of his teenager hormones or if Yuki was actually turned on because of the situation, “This is the position that is best, right? Perverts like you love this view.”

Omi didn’t know if Yuki was speaking from experience about  _ perverts _ or if he was copying some adult video he found, but he hoped that it was the latter. He was going to tell Yuki to stop, but the material of the panties slipped over his ass and he pushed his cock down between his thighs and closed his legs together.

“Just… just get it over with,” Yuki mumbled, burying his face in his arms and Omi realized that this wasn’t the first time Yuki was in this position. A pretty boy like him probably was used to all sorts of attention and his bratty attitude was something that was probably taken as a challenge for someone will bad intentions. 

“Yuki,” Omi got up and felt his heart drop when the young boy flinched, “I’m not going to do anything like that.”

He fought the urge to rub his hand over the smooth skin exposed to him and reached down to pull his panties back up - trying not to focus on the scars on his hips that were obviously from someone’s nails. Yuki let out a sound like a sob, his face was still hidden in his arms so Omi could tell if he was actually crying. 

“Then take care of me, at least,” Yuki turned his head, face red and wet with tears, “Please, Ma.”

The nickname didn’t fit the situation, but there was a desperation in the young boy’s voice that Omi was a slave to. His hand wrapped around Yuki’s cock, which was small in his palm and he was easily able to hold his full length. It felt wrong, jerking off a kid that was close in age to his own brothers with no real reason other than he felt the need to help him. But Omi was sure that this was just as bad as if he decided to fuck him right there, he was taking advantage of Yuki’s vulnerability and naivety that even if he didn’t hurt him, this wasn’t good for him. Yuki’s cock twitched against his palm and he let out a whine, watery spurts of cum filling his hand and shooting against the back of the couch. 

“Omi, I’m sorry,” Yuki cried as he sat back on his heels, pushing his nightgown down to cover himself, “I… I don’t think we should talk about this again. Just… go to sleep and I’ll clean up here.”

Omi didn’t know what to say or do - he was a monster and there was a creeping feeling in his gut that this wasn’t going to be the end of it. There was obviously something traumatic that happened to Yuki and he just furthered that trauma by touching him instead of sitting him out to talk about why he would act like that.

“Don’t be sorry, Yuki, I’m the one that fucked up,” Omi sighed and wiped the evidence of his mistake onto his pants, knowing that it will probably stain and he’ll just be forced to remember what a shitty person he was.

“It’s my fault, Omi,” Yuki smiled, despite his tears as if it was something he was used to saying, “I’m the one who tempted you, right.”

**Author's Note:**

> this isn't my main account but feel free to namedrop me on twitter so i can see your complaints ♥


End file.
